


O is for Ohana: The Ficlet Series

by Jenthetrulysly



Category: Hawaii Five-O (1968)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, It looks like slash but we're not sure, Multi, Procedural
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-11-13
Packaged: 2017-11-13 14:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenthetrulysly/pseuds/Jenthetrulysly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes fun, sometimes poignant, a collection of Ficlets written at various stages in time which explore the concept of family between the members of Hawaii Five-O. Emphasis on Steve and Danny, spanning many different genres.</p><p>Latest update: B is for Blood</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A is for Auwe!

**Author's Note:**

> I've been doing some spring cleaning of my desktop (read: purge) and I found a large collection of classic Hawaii Five-O fanfiction that has not seen the light of day since I pulled my stories from Fanfiction.net due to the idiocy happening there. I frankly find it hilarious how some idiots are declaring that there is an imaginary war happening LOL.
> 
> As usual, special thanks to my beta and partner in crime, traw. As I find more of these I will post them. Happy reading!

**“A” is for _Auwe!_**  

The last thing Danny said as he patted the big kanaka’s back was “ _pomaika’i, kaikana_ , you’re going to need it.”

Kono had been sent on a late night mission to Steve’s house to retrieve some items for McGarrett. The team was staying overnight in the office to try and make some progress on the latest case that threatened to break at any given moment.

It showed how tired the Hawaiian detective was there was no joke made at the Boss’ expense over the “necessities” which had to be grabbed. It didn’t really register until he had stuffed the hair pomade, fixing spray and anti frizz balm into the overnight bag and looked at the last thing written on the list. Then he felt the bottom of his stomach drop out and he stared at familiar cursive writing.

_A change of clothes and clean underwear._

He turned the piece of paper over expecting further instructions and was shocked to see none.

“Steve, this is _lolo,_ ” he murmured softly, “absolutely _lolo…_ ”

With a defeated sigh he began to look for the door to Steve’s bedroom. Being a police officer meant that one had to be prepared for their fate, but there was nothing that could help Kono prepare for what he was about to find in the tiger’s cave. McGarrett could be one scary tiger, blind or not.

He finally reached an ornate wooden door that looked like it belonged in some Church pew rather than an apartment, but people had different tastes, and he respected that. With a trembling hand he twisted the gilded knob and grunted as he pushed the heavy door open to reveal pitch-black darkness. Fumbling for the light switch it was a few moments before he found it and warm light filtered through the room. 

Even in his sleep-deprived half conscious state his eyes widened at the décor of McGarrett’s bedroom. Staunchly a private man, some part of Kono reminded him that the dark haired detective viewed him as _ohana,_ someone he could trust completely to violate this inner sanctum, this dominion. That and the abundance of photographs of McGarrett in the room _on every available inch of space on the walls_ made the Hawaiian feel like the gentlest of breezes would push him over. 

Spotting the dark wood wardrobe standing underneath a mirror as wide as the room, he ran to it and resolutely tried to ignore the bust of McGarrett’s head made from what looked like ceramic and hand painted in such a way that it made his boss look like a movie star on the table next to the wardrobe.

Kono sniggered at the deep shade of rouge painted on the bust’s cheeks and the pinkness and fullness of those lips. He imagined that Steve must have been really tired and out of it to send him rather than Danny on this late night errand run.

The drawer opened soundlessly and he began to rifle through the various articles of clothing in them. He pulled out a few robes and silky smooth things before his hands were full and he put them on the table with that terrible bust. He briefly looked at it and tried not to snigger at the perfectly erect coif at the top of the bust that was as tall the face itself.

Kono chuckled as he shook his head, and continued pulling out all of the items of clothes. Soon the table became full so he continued to shove the clothing on there back to make room. Finally, after pulling out Steve’s perfectly monochromatic black and grey sock collection the kanaka found what he was looking for. 

He did a whoop of joy and punched the air, not realizing that the bust was already on the edge of the table, and the resounding reverberations when he jumped up and down in celebratory glee caused the bust to tumble onto the floor, where it shattered into several pieces.

“ _Auwe_!” Kono exclaimed. The custom made black silk boxers with “SM” embroidered in gold on the left trunk fell to the floor, and he began to panic.  

**Originally posted to fanfiction.net: September 5 2011**


	2. B is for Blood

Steve's heart was threatening to beat right through his chest as he stared at the fallen detective. His shaking hands were pressed tightly against Danny's neck where the knife had slashed through skin earlier. The wound was deeper than he initially thought, deep enough to get the dark haired detective thinking that it might have slashed the carotid artery. 

The younger man gasped in pain as Steve put more pressure onto the wound in an attempt to stem the flow of blood, but ultimately it was futile. There was a very delicate balancing act required since he needed to be careful not to crush the Second-In-Command's windpipe. Steve looked up to see those normally clear blue eyes blinking at him, and that quirky mouth move, but no sound came out except for a small gurgle.

There was perfect silence, other than Danny's shallow breathing as he struggled for his life. The telltale sounds of the ambulance sirens were nowhere to be heard. Steve went cold as he could feel Dan's pulse get more sluggish and fear welled up inside, fear of the fact that the other man might really die. He couldn’t stop his hands from shaking nor the sob that tore out of his body as a tear welled on the corner of Danny’s eye and slid down his cheek. 

As his hands became stained with the younger detective's blood the light in those blue eyes dimmed, before finally fluttering closed.

“Don’t you dare give up on me now, Danno, you hear?” McGarrett growled, resisting the urge to shake the other man into consciousness. 

He ignored the way the blood seeped steadily onto Danny’s clothes and down onto the concrete floor, onto his hands before his knees were wet with the sticky warmth of blood. The air had a faint tang of copper to it, but Steve ignored it as well, as he continued the firm pressure to stop the bleeding and prayed for that ambulance to come. 

So long as he could feel the thrum of Danny’s pulse beneath his fingers then he will never give up. 


End file.
